Temptation
by Celeste.J.Evans
Summary: The missing last scene from 'Once Upon A Crime' just a sweet little one shot to get us through his hiatus...
1. Chapter 1

**Hola lovelies. In honor of Castle-less monday I offer you a one-shot based on last week's episode. After the glorious shipper-friendly hand hold at the end of 'Once Upon A Crime' I thought we needed some sweet little something to tide us through this torturous three week hiatus. We'll make it through guys, we really will. Also, if anyone was curious, I've randomly decided what I'm doing for my summer Alphabet series. I haven't decided which fandom it'll be (I did Castle last year so it has to be different) but it'll be flowers so look for that in July. Anyways, here's the missing scene from 'Once Upon A Crime' for you all to read and enjoy (and review). **

**Please review and as always, you can follow me on twitter at **vatrask

**Enjoy 3**

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><p>She opened the door after peeking through the hole, a curious look on her face. "Castle what are you doing here?" She had seen him less than two hours ago when she left him at his apartment – a little begrudgingly on both their parts but neither would admit it – and here he was at her doorstep, laptop top and charger in one hand and what looked to be a semi-expensive bottle of wine in the other.<p>

When he saw her eyeing the bottle, he lifted it with a nervous smile. "A little bribe that I thought would help." Still standing in the doorway she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Didn't we have enough wine after your mother's encore?" If that wasn't a lie, she didn't know what was. Between them, they had drunk glasses three glasses of wine - combined; the rest was finished off by Martha and her latest 'play-write'. She almost wished they had drunk more – maybe she would have more courage facing him in a home setting.

"Well we don't have to open it right now, detective;" he reasoned "just because I give you something now doesn't mean you have to deal with it right away. Sometimes it's best to let it simmer on its own anyways." She paused, gaining the brief sense that he was only half talking about the bottle of wine, before reaching out to wrap her fingers around the neck, brushing his digits for a moment that sparked through both of them.

"So what is this bribe for?" She examined the bottle, determining the severity of whatever it was that he was going to tell her. It was a sweet wine, aged well but not expensive or rare in anyway: he was going to ask her something that may seem silly but meant a lot to him – or both of them.

"Can I stay here for the night?"

She almost dropped the bottle as her face paled and her eyes widened. "I'm sorry, you want to _what_?" She shook her head wondering if she had heard him correctly.

"Oh no," he backtracked, his hands rising in defense "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean it like, Castle?" And there was that playful annoyance he loved about her – the playful annoyance that he _liked_ about her; can't think the 'L' word around her, he chided, it gets messy.

"I…" He took a long, deep breath to gather his courage "my mother used my office to write her one woman show and I think the mojo has gone out of it."

She stared at him, half in disbelief and half completely unsure as to how she should react. "The _mojo_?" Finding it much safer to focus on the surface issues with what he was asking her, she vaguely acknowledged that she had yet to admit him into her apartment – she hoped Mrs. Delgattoe across the hall didn't come out; the old bat was annoyed enough that there was a female cop living in her building bringing trouble and coming in at all hours of the night.

"The mojo – the atmosphere – the flowing inspiration," he waved his hands for emphasis and she had to duck a flying right hand once before she took a step back "whatever it is that gives me the inspiration to write; it's not there anymore." He suddenly stopped his movement to look up at her through the fringe of his hair with those big baby blues that pierced through her resolve like nothing she knew. "I was just hoping I could try your couch to see if I could get the juices flowing again." He shrugged. "Just tonight, he assured suddenly "just to see if I can get writing again."

As much as a part of her was admitting him into her apartment, totally willing to let him do whatever he needed to do in order to regain his inspiration, another part of her was shutting the door in his face and so she made an argument for the former part, hoping Castle would take the bait. "Why don't you try The Old Haunt? I thought _In A Hail of Bullets_ was born in one of those booths." She waved her fingers, her thumb still tightly around the bottle neck, to mock him in his prideful admission of the first novel he ever wrote.

He didn't rise to her teasing but instead, answered honestly. "Bars bring up too many old memories."

She tilted her head at the sadness in his voice tinged with hopeful reminiscence; indistinguishable from anything but a mixed memory from a past long dead. "Good or bad?"

"A little of both;" he shrugged, still lost in that alternate universe where the present was not nearly as complicated. Finally, he subtly shook away the bad memories in favor of a long breath through his nose, inhaling her strong scent of heaven and earth. "Besides, I don't want old memories. I'd much rather create new ones."

"In my living room?" She smirked but her face fell when the implications of her words sank in and she suddenly felt herself wishing she hadn't baited him; scared to death that he wouldn't answer the way she wanted him to – or maybe that he would.

"If you'll let me in." Her breath caught in her throat and she was silent a long moment, her bottom lip between her teeth as she tried desperately not to smile, her decision made long ago.

"I should warn you, Castle, I won't be stopping what I was doing before just so you can get your mojo back."

She stepped aside to let him in and his shoulder brushed her collar bone in an innocent caress that made her heart skip a beat. "My dear detective you can do whatever you wish; it is, after all, your apartment." His smile stopped her heart completely.

Still she rolled her eyes as they both approached the couch, placing the bottle of wine on the kitchen island as she passed it. "You can only stay if you promise to work; and you're sleeping on the couch." She pointed at him in a half-hearted warning that neither of them took seriously. They both knew he was a gentleman and they both knew that she wouldn't kick him out for a long time.

His hand to his heart, he flopped onto the couch with his laptop still tucked carefully under his arm. "I swear on my mother's grave."

"Your mother isn't dead." She shook her head at him but still managed to sit as close to him as possible without sitting on his lap – which, admittedly, often sounded rather tempting – their heat intermingled in a delicious, intense, embrace that neither would surrender to.

"She may be if she keeps writing those one woman plays." She genuinely rolled her eyes, watching him place the laptop on the coffee table, enjoying the brief glance at his backside.

"You enjoyed it." She teased, reaching over him to grab the television remote – dangerously close and purposefully ignoring the heady, musky scent that permeated from his oh-so-tempting collar. Biting back a smile at their brief proximity, the pair slumped back in unison, his shoulder pressing hers into the couch but neither willing to move from their spot.

"I enjoyed _parts_ of it; the parts that she didn't embellish."

She scoffed – more at his indignant attitude than at Martha and her fairytale. "Like what?"

"Like how she was an excellent mother." Damn that man and his wonderfully honest answers that melted her heart. Sometimes she wondered if her heart had melted into her stomach and that was why it fluttered whenever he was near – still beating in its liquid state.

"That's so sweet." She admitted quietly, not daring to stare at him but rather focus on turning on her DVR to her recorded episodes of Temptation Lane – her activity of choice when winding down lately.

"Yeah…" She could feel his smile and his warm breath on her cheek "but don't you dare tell her I said that."

She turned to him as the opening credits rolled, providing the cheesy, intense romantic background perfect for unspoken conversations. "Your secret is safe with me." He was silent, the soft saxophone and burgundy silk the floated across the screen spoke for his heart lightening, knowing that she was letting him in. As the dialogue began and the intense, dramatic music set in, he smiled and turned back to the television screen, his arm coming up to the back of the couch as though he belonged there – a thought which caused Kate to sit straight up and look at him with scrutinizing eyes. "I thought you were here to write."

"I said I was here to get my mojo back." He glanced at her sideways, keeping an eye on the conversation between the spicy ad executive and her equally as spicy assistant/lover.

"And you're going to get it by watching _Temptation Lane_?" She folded her arms, still watching him with a tension in her upper body that she wasn't ready to shake yet.

He tore his eyes away from the television to look at her with the full intensity of his oceanic eyes. "I'm hoping I'll be inspired by your living room; it's much less lonely than my office."

"I kind of like your office." She pursed her lips, almost relaxed enough to smile. "Sort of 'modern meets classic'."

"Much like the man himself." He gave a mock bow from his position half twisted on the couch, the current episode on the screen completely forgotten.

She shook her head, squinting in thought. "No, that's 'annoying meets immature'."

"How am I immature?" He squeaked, gaping at his partner in mock indignation. Her only response was to quirk an eyebrow. "Okay so maybe I can be immature _sometimes_" he brushed her shoulder gently "but you're starting to like my immature parts."

"Oh no Castle," she shook her head with that sexily evil grin on her face that made him both excited and terrified "I'm much fonder of your mature parts." She made a point of look down just to see him squirm – not because she wanted to look down at his…not at all – and the desired outcome made her smile.

While he did shift in his seat, he threw it back at her with a leer. "So spicy tonight detective, I like it." His overconfident, solid tone caused her resolve to break and she broke into a smile, collapsing against his shoulder as she laughed freely. She barely registered when he stiffened but it was enough to bring her back to reality and the fact that she had her head on his shoulder. She kept her eyes closed for a long time, contemplating her options as her laughter died and the sounds of a heated argument between two co-workers who were due to make out at any moment filled the air. She felt the sudden shift in the room when she turned to lay her head properly on his shoulder so they could both watch the television screen. His body tensed – his muscles flexing instinctively – and then relaxed so that her head melted into his side and his arm on the back of the couch lowered, not enough to touch her but so that she was hyperaware of its presence there. Later, when they had both fallen asleep, his arm would fall to her waist and she would cuddle into his side; but that was something to deal with in the morning.

"Let's just watch." She whispered, finding herself surprisingly content.

"But it's already started; we don't know what's going on." She hummed at the rumble of his chest, her head rising and falling with his breathing and, finding herself sated in her position, she was completely unwilling to feel anything but hope.

"We'll figure it out."


	2. The Morning After

**I'm baack. Due to overwhelming requests I bring you yet another chapter of the hiatus fic but after this we're done - it's just to get us through this week. A new chapter of Glass Slipper is up so if you've never even heard of that, go and read it and if you've read it but haven't reviewed...read it again. So this is our 'morning after' fic for your hiatus pleasure. We'll get through this week guys. A week from today, Castle will be back in out lives. *sigh* Anyways, this chapter isn't nearly as long as the last one but I think it's rather fun. Thoughts?**

**Please review and as always, you can follow me on twitter at **vatrask

**Enjoy 3**

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><p>The heavenly scent of coffee and bacon filled her nostrils and she was instantly stirred from her slumber….on the couch….curled up on the back of the couch as though she had been using something – or someone – else as a pillow and had simply sought warmth once it – he – moved. Moaning in pleasure and protest, she slowly squinted her eyes and stared at the source of her arousal – from her sleep of course – a wide awake Rick Castle, bustling around her kitchen as though he had been there forever; as though he belonged there. Resting against the couch, she watched him moving around, sizzling bacon and dipping what she assumed would be French toast, and she felt a small smile grow on her face at the ease in which he placed himself in her life. They were both still dressed as they were last night – with exception of a wrinkled jacket and some shoes kicked off early on in the evening – and as much as she was enjoying the little show, it was time to head back into reality. "Castle what are you doing here?"<p>

He didn't react to her voice filling the room, as though he already knew she was awake "What does it look like I'm doing?" She heard more than saw him flip over a few more pieces of toast, the low simmering reminding her of another heat.

"I mean what are you still doing here?" She curled her feet under her so she was sitting on the couch, watching him make breakfast – she could almost hear the boys teasing her about how domestic this scenario was.

He looked at her and smiled that heart melting smile of his and she swallowed "You looked so peaceful in your sleep so I thought I'd make you breakfast before we headed into work." She blinked and paused and swallowed and blushed and shook her head and did just about anything she could to ignore how perfectly natural and domestic that statement sounded.

"Don't you have a family? Aren't they going to be worried that you didn't come home last night?"

He shrugged. "Not really; they knew I would be here so if I didn't come home, I doubt they're worried."

She was standing up from the couch and standing on the other side of the island so fast, he nearly dropped the bacon. "Your family knows you slept here last night?"

"Hey I slept on the couch last night as promised, remember?" He pointed his flipper at her, teasingly.

"Yeah, well, so did I." Her voice was muffled between her teeth but he heard her loud and clear.

"Relax, it's not as though they'll think we slept together last night" he paused "well my mother might, but she always thinks we slept together so I don't think it's anything to worry about."

She stood, watching him move around her kitchen and she struck with a chilling thought that made Rick stop in his tracks. "Why wouldn't they think we slept together?"

"Wha-"

"I mean we're both attractive adults who work well together; why would they think we slept together?"

He recovered quickly but not after he picked his jaw up off the floor. "First of all, thank you for placing me in the 'attractive' category." Her smile relaxed only slightly. "And second of all, it's just based on past experience. We've never slept together before, even after we've _slept_ together so they've no reason to think this time is any different."

She knew he was right but something about his earlier statement had struck a chord – possibly even a heartstring – within her and she felt her heart quicken at the consequences of where she was headed with this. "Castle," he looked up at her expectantly – as he always did when her voice grew soft and apprehensive – waiting for her to be ready "what would have happened if we _had_ slept together last night?"

His actions paused for a moment but not nearly enough to come off as doubt or worry. "Well…" He finished placing the bacon and French toast on a plate and placed it under her nose, the heavenly scent causing her eyes to close and her mouth to water, especially when the coffee was added to the meal "first I'd make you breakfast in bed – or couch if such was the case – then I'd kiss you good morning," he took a strip of crispy bacon and placed it at her lips which she wrapped around the breakfast food, savouring the metaphorical flavor "then I'd kiss you again just for good measure." Even as she continued to chew the bacon, he slipped a piece of French toast through her mouth which she grabbed to keep from chocking and laughing at his antics. She chewed as he continued to speak. "Then I'd let you drive us to work – together – and try my best to keep my hands off of you because you hate PDAs." She nearly spit out the toast when his hand brushed her elbows leaning on the counter but she swallowed instead, relishing in the warmth of his fingers resting lightly on her skin and wishing she felt this more often. "And I'd be okay with not getting to touch you during the day because at night," he leaned forward in a conspiring whisper "I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you." He smirked as she shivered and had to physically put down the toast in order to give back as good as she got.

"And who's to say you'll get the chance?" She smirked. "Who says you'll get to do it all over again?"

Instead of shooting back some cheeky remark, his eyes sobered and grew dark. "Kate I promise you, when we do sleep together, it'll be forever." Her breath hitched at the mere mention of 'when' rather than 'if'. That clinched her decision; she knew what she was going to do. Stuffing the last piece of toast into her mouth, she swallowed and smiled, pushing herself off the island and headed towards her bedroom.

"Come on, Castle." She smiled at him when he blinked. "I'm sure I've got some of your clothes around here from the numerous times you've invaded my home." He leapt from the kitchen and followed her in at a distance.

"And then what?" He expected to be sent home but he couldn't help but smile at her response.

"Then you are going to let me drive us to work – together."

"What about your breakfast?" The ultimate testing question to make sure they were on the same page.

Kate glanced back at the breakfast still steaming hot and as tempting as a nice, comfortable breakfast sounded, she was much more interested in the delight before her eyes.

"Well it'll be cold by the time we're dressed." She smiled up at him. "Maybe you'll just have to make it again for me tomorrow."

"Deal."


End file.
